A poetic tear falls slowly in the morning
It comes and goes absolute,
bringing with it, no warning
A subtle thought surpassed by any dispute

However it may come to be
It seems to always take over,
to set me and my body free

From the flowing rivers and bubbling streams
and to the tallest of all the mighty oak trees

Normally comes from a poem
Or a thought that brings me grief
It could be a lovely painting
that brings me to a state bequeathed

My favorite is a song,
that harmony does me in
The melody dances over me
and crawls underneath my skin

Dinner is Served*

Continuous hunger
unsatisfied
and faltered
Feed the weak
and eat them young
Makes a simplicity
of having to
house them
or to let them run*


Baby calf, born to be
brazen with a side of pilaf

Seared over open flame
tenderly exquisite

Make no matter
of an empty life

Just too satisfying
to a tempered pallet

To think of where and how
this dish came to be

Ending a wee
youngling's life

Served best with
a chilled blush zinfandel
or an aged red chianti

White and/or red
make up life of blood
and life in continuation

Sleep comes to those who wait
slumbers of nothings
and dreams of melodies
caress the inevitable fate

Expression laid like a place setting
table cloth pulled and dishes wobbling
waiting, leaning, and feigning
for an answer to start believing

But I wait, patient and still
Vermouth, spilled *****
and whiskey, tacky kills

Another sunrise
two more setting
surprise me in the morning
unrested and humming

A glass of water
filled with ice
balancing
next to a butter knife

Sliced smooth
intransigence
coupled delight

To pull a song from scratch
to make it all fit and match
sure seems like a job to me

Sure I'm not making all the dough
but I am living a life that I always chose
Free of restrictions no matter the path
Its what I always wanted
so now hear my cash

Its a struggle always and forever
but if it wasn't would I ever sigh?
once for relief and the rest for grief?
Would I sigh?

Part of my job is to say it as it is
and to express just what I mean
by a deep vibrato when I sing
and a steady rhythm to which I play
This is my everyday

To write and to dream
to fathom and to steam
to dig past china
and be on the moon
try to find ideas for you
take them into your lives now out of the womb
for you to be the knife that breaks the bread
on your ever cloudy afternoon